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This is what my agent told me to tell people who want me to do stuff for them, if I want him involved, and then he said that he says it to his wife all the time, which I thought was pretty funny. But then I was thinking that really, “Sounds great, talk to my agent,” should be the title of a blog or self-published book, don’t you think?

I feel like the person writing it would be named Scott or Kevin and he would have very dark almost shellacked hair and he would live far from either coast but have summer stock experience. Also, he probably had a guest spot on Law and Order and then you’d click the screen grabs and find out that really he was just an extra on Law and Order during a trip where he came to the city for his cousin’s bachelor party. His special skills would involve juggling, doing an Italian-American accent, The Alexander Technique and PowerPoint.

Also, just to paint the picture of my kind of sad but ok with me Friday night, Swingtown was so good that even though I was watching it all by myself I actually, at one pivotal point, began slapping my own thigh and saying ‘Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” I hesitate to say what it was, lest anyone else is watching this show and I spoil it. However I don’t think that’s the case so I’ll just say it was when Bonnie killed Juniper.

Ok fine, there’s no Bonnie and certainly no Juniper and no one has been killed.

But if there had been, I’m sure that would have been a big moment.

Swingtown was so good tonight I can’t handle it! Did anyone else watch? I’m really the only person watching this show, aren’t I? Also, the news story about the heartless cop who stopped a couple who were rushing their choking poodle to the vet and who wouldn’t let them go while their dog was dying in the backseat is putting a strain on my swollen tear ducts. And lastly, I had this conversation with my dad:

My dad: Your fans are so nice!
Me: I know! SO nice!
My dad: I love them!

And now I’m going to go to sleep and wake up in about fifteen hours. If anyone asks, I had a wild and crazy Friday night that involved interactions with fellow human beings in loud places. I probably busted a move or two.

Thanks for making this button, Ted! If I had a binder, I would put this on it. And really, thank you all for the really nice comments. Sometimes this blog is better than a puppy! (Imagine if I had this blog AND a puppy?! I would be showered with affection from all sides. So very tempting.)

My dad has informed me that he agrees with the commenter who said it’s always confusing when I say I’m going to be on Red Eye on a Wednesday night because does that mean Tues/Wed or Wed/Thurs? In this case it means Wed/Thurs!

Is it wrong to want to enter “The Roast of Bob Saget” into my Blackberry calendar? I mean, I just don’t want to forget to watch, which is funny for two reasons. 1) From whence springs this sudden anxiety over missing strange appointment television? 2) Comedy Central only replays things eight million times a week. I could forget to watch and then find it later the same night. 3) Have I mentioned I love Swingtown? I do. 4) That was three things but the third had nothing to do with the first two. 5) See, I think the reason I like Swingtown so much is that despite the fact that it’s about swinging sort of—or about couples figuring out how to define their relationships—the writers of the show and I share some common conceptions of what love is based on two things that characters on the show have said. A therapist on the show said, “When respect goes, love goes,” or something to that effect, which I agree with. Also, one of the characters said something like “They say that love happens when someone sees you as you see yourself.” It’s for this reason that I fall in love with people who think I’m flawless.

I’m back after spending the day in the Hamptons interviewing polo player Nacho Figueras. I would have been talking to him before the match (the game?) but for the second Saturday in a row the match/game, which consists of chukkas which are seven minutes each (someone did some googling!) was called off because the field was soggy. Everyone still hung out under the tents but after hearing him talk so much about polo I really wanted to watch him play. It’s saying something since I am to watching sports as I am to…

What’s something else I really don’t share a pronounced fondness for, which sets me apart from so many of my peers?

Having babies? Grape Nuts? Summer?

You know?

If I’m making even less sense than normal it’s because I’ve been up forever. I’m hating myself for dumping a big pile of stuff on my bed as I ran out the door this morning. I guess I have no choice but to push it onto the floor.

For more of today’s blow-by-blow action you can check my twitter because I was updating that today. Or just wait until I write the story.

I am the most occasionally socially awkward person alive. I just walked up to someone who I don't know but who threw a party with a friend of mine hence I recognized him. "Are you Michael?" I asked. He didn't hear me though, because it's loud here, so I stood tjere for a few uncomfortable moments while his friends noticed and then I walked away. Also, I have a lot more freckles than I left the house with.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

I'm on the Hamptons Luxury Liner because I decided it would be easier than renting a car. I'm kind of already regretting it because I lost my plum spot in line to get on when I dropped my phone-this very phone I'm writing this on-because I was trying to drink coffee and twitter at the same time. I may have been twittering about drinking coffee. You know that phase when you're dating more than one person before you settle on one? Other people find it exhilarating, I find it exhausting. Anyway, communications wise, this is like that with the twittering and blog and myspace and facebook and my prominent listing in Who's Who and various and sundry gazettes and community bulletins, assorted minutes from a plethora of meetings, plus monitering my graffiti presence I don't know if I can remain so multi platform. Maybe, we'll see.

Anyway, so my phone clattered to the ground and some nice man picked it all up and I hastily threw it, unassembled, in my smaller than everyone else here's bag and then I got on to find that all the rows of two had one person in them. I hate strangers! (But I know they're as afraid of me as I am of them.) So now I'm gently bumming out a nice woman in the front of the bus who's reading a hard cover book. I don't know what it is. I'll report back.

So but before we were being held up for what seemed like a while because not everyone was on the bus yet. A girl arrived and as she was walking up I hear this crotchedy voice behind saying 'there's the asshole!' But I could tell he was sort of out of it. You know when you can tell the difference between an outspoken jerk and outspoken unwell jerk? He's the latter. So then she gets on and he starts yelling about how she's a fat slob who held us up or something. I turn around to see what the hell and he's easily three hundred pounds. I didn't want to look directly at him for fear of engaging. He's got a minder, or wife, though, so hopefully she'll keep him in line.

And the magazine selection blows.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

I started a Twitter account because I feel like the world needs more ways to feel pseudo connected to me. Also, is it raining? Because the air conditioner in this living room sounds like a vacuum sucking up pennies. Maybe it's raining pennies? And cats and dogs? That would be both dangerous and damaging to even the most hearty umbrella.

But back to twitter. It's www.twitter.com/alisonrosen. I know my parents are going to read this and have a zillion questions about twitter so I'm going to answer them:

Yes. Don't know. Just because. Kind of. Yeah. On your phone. But also on the web. Doesn't matter. I don't know. No difference really. Yeah.

Also, I spilled mustard on my shirt and also discovered that if you mix splenda into mustard you can make low calorie honey mustard if you're into that. I just like it plain, on my shirt. Oh and guess what asshole is taking the jitney? Not this asshole! I'm taking the Hamptons Luxury Liner. It's not even a boat, can you believe it?!?! I'm going to wear a life preserver just in case though.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry